


Duty Diverged

by imagineagreatadventure



Series: JB Appreciation Week 2016 [2]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-27
Updated: 2016-09-27
Packaged: 2018-08-17 13:18:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,418
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8145478
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/imagineagreatadventure/pseuds/imagineagreatadventure
Summary: Jaime and Brienne are not caught by the Bloody Mummers and must continue on to King's Landing with just themselves for company. JB Appreciation Week Day 2 - Duty





	

**Author's Note:**

> So this is canon-divergent, obviously, but to be honest, I didn't go back checking the things I probably should have checked bc ahhh running out of time, so there's probably canon-related mistakes in here. Esp. with the timeline.

* * *

 

The wench grew uglier every day he had to see her face. . . although he supposed he was grateful he had to look at her ugly face instead of the ugly faces of the men that had found them fighting.

They were lucky that those men believed their story about chastisement, although he suspected it was the offer of coin that truly sealed their safe passage. The Maid of Tarth gave away all their money and the men went off thinking that they had won riches. If his guard had been a prettier wench, they might have been doomed.

Or if he had looked prettier. He was sure the mud and muck was what truly saved them more than the wench’s terrible looks or the clanking of coin. It was almost a blessing from the Seven that she had tried to drown him as they fought. Jaime knew he had to be unrecognizable.

The wench grunted when he said this to her, still unwilling to admit she had made a mistake letting that poor wretch go, the one who had sold them out to the Bloody Mummers (as Jaime found out they were called). The name of the band of miscreants was familiar, they had once served under Gregor Clegane’s banner, Jaime recalled, but now they served the wolfling, or at least one of the boy’s lords.

He bid the wench to find out who they served, to better avoid them, although it seemed she already knew. “They belong to the Leech Lord, Roose Bolton,” she told him while roasting a rabbit over the pit. It smelled rather good and he was glad she was sensible enough to start cooking it before daylight ended. It was not a good idea to have a fire out in these days, not when rapers and thieves and Starks lurked about.

“Why don’t you just let me go home?” he asked her. “You could go home too, to that lovely Sapphire Island of course.”

She wouldn’t meet his eyes, she never could. He hated that she wouldn’t show him her eyes.  “I obey the will of my lady.”

He thought about killing her then, slamming her into the fire that she had created, but decided against it. Jaime wasn’t sure why he didn’t kill her, although she did take quite a bit out of him the last time they had fought.

It was exhilarating to fight again. And a true opponent, woman or not. True, he was weakened from the imprisonment, but even on his best days, he was unsure of how quickly he’d win.

But he would win.

There was no mistaking that.

“How will you get the Stark girls home?” he asked. “The same way you brought me back to King’s Landing? In shackles and under the cover of darkness?”

The girl bristled. “I would never put a lady in shackles.”

“But you would make them travel as we do?"

“I’d prefer it if you or your father would provide us with a boat,” she said, almost drily. Jaime admired her then, not many spoke to the Kingslayer in that tone.

“I will see what I can do, although you’ll get nowhere with my Father, I’m sure,” he said. “But my sister might be grateful for my return.”

The Maid spun the spit and Jaime watched the flame lick the rabbit. “Your whole family will be grateful and they will release the Stark girls. If not, I will take you back.”

Jaime laughed. “I shall like to see you try, wench.”

She pursed her lips and looked so young that for a moment Jaime felt a wild stab of guilt. “You may have to.”

* * *

“We must avoid the roads,” Brienne told Jaime after she spoke to the innkeep. She looked troubled and Jaime misliked it.

“Why?” he asked, although he suspected he knew it. He had heard the men at the other table speaking. There was mischief on the roads and none of it good.

The wench chewed on her lip as if she was a cow chewing on grass. “There are rumors of a Brotherhood, men who serve no lord.”

“And what does this Brotherhood do?”

Her next words chilled him. “Serve justice.”

“Are you sure they’re not Starks?”

She frowned. “It is no laughing matter.”

Jaime was unsure he had ever heard the wench laugh. He almost wanted to correct this defect of hers, he was sure she’d have an uproarious laugh, one that was terrible and loud. “Shall we leave the inn then?”

“Yes,” she said, her face still cloaked in a frown. “Yes, we must press forward. The sooner we get to King’s Landing, the better it will be.”

“For me, perhaps,” Jaime said. “My father will not relinquish the Stark girls to you.” He thought on this at night, when she forced him to march through the muddy grass that soaked the Riverlands. Tyrion would, he believed, but the rumor was that Lord Tywin Lannister was back after winning the Battle of the Blackwater.

The wench looked annoyed at the truth, her blue eyes flashing. “He must. Both of them must be returned to their mother.”

“True, and I think it would be best for all if they were in their mother’s bosom rather than my sweet sister’s.”

Brienne sniffed but said nothing of the rumors that were plaguing the Seven Kingdoms, choosing to lift him up from the chair and drag him out of the inn as if she was his mother and he was a little boy who misbehaved.

“I am chained and yet you do this?” he asked. “I could defeat you in battle with or without these shackles.”

She had a horsey smile, he thought, as she smirked. “I have already defeated you once, Kingslayer, I will do so again.”

_No, you shall not._

* * *

The longer they walked, the more they both stank. The last bath they had was their fight in the river and Jaime supposed that counted little for a bath.

“We need to clean ourselves,” he said. “Well, perhaps, I do not,” he realized, “since it helps disguise my Lannister locks, but you should, wench, or else my Father will never agree to see you.” _Clean your armor as well or else you’ll be looking like a hedgeknight instead of a girl who dreamed to be a knight._

Brienne looked over herself and grimaced in agreement, although she said nothing of her agreement to Jaime. She was very stubborn, he knew now, and he almost admired it. “I will worry about bathing when you are safe in King’s Landing and the girls are safe with their mother.”

Jaime laughed, leaning on a tree for support. She had finally unleashed him from the shackles, although she shackled him still at night, when she tried to rest. He could sometimes hear her dreaming, murmuring words of shadow and fire that tormented her, while dreams of green eyes and golden hair haunted him. _I’m coming to you, Cersei_ , he told his sister in those nightmares, afraid of her eyes.

He thought little of his sister lately, until the dreams at night and that frightened him more than it ought. She was a part of him, she was him as much as he was her, and yet it was difficult to think of her during the drudgery of the day. It was much more amusing to antagonize the wench.

He hoped Cersei would forgive him for that. Although he doubted it. None of the Lannisters were very forgiving sorts.

“You should worry about bathing before you meet your King.”

“My King is Renly,” the wench said, her gaze hard and stubborn. She looked young and Jaime wondered again at her age. Her youth was clear in her eyes. If she had been another girl, one who didn’t look like a man perhaps, he would have thought she was about to cry for her fallen king.

“Renly is dead,” he said with little patience. “Robb is not your king then? I thought you were trading in his sisters for me? Or has this whole trip been a way to spend time with the golden Lannister knight?” Jaime grinned at her for full effect and she turned red.

“I serve his mother, Lady Catelyn,” Brienne said, her voice raised in indignation. “And you know this. Stop suggesting otherwise.”

“You will need to bow to Joffrey,” Jaime said.

She chewed on her lip. “If I must.”

“He is your King.”

“And your son,” she shot back, although she looked surprised that she said it at all.

Jaime only smiled. “My nephew, you mean. I shall have to kill anyone who suggests otherwise.”

She eyed him carefully as if she was dealing with a wild boar. Her eyes were so very blue. “I understand.”

“Do you?”

“Yes.”

_“Good.”_

* * *

The news found them in an inn close to King’s Landing in the lordship of Rosby.

The Imp and his wife had killed the King.

Joffrey was dead.

_And my brother was arrested for murdering him. Something he would never do. Not to my son._

Brienne’s eyes, so very blue, sought out his and he shook his head. “The Imp poisoned him?” she asked the person who had shared the gossip.

“It’s the traitor Sansa Stark’s fault,” the man said, sniffing. “Why the Lannisters would allow her into their family is a good question. She had traitor’s blood. She probably convinced the Imp to kill our King.”

Brienne’s face turned white. “Have they arrested her?”

The man shrugged. “No, I don’t think so. A direwolf came and carried them off.” Jaime somehow doubted this, considering Ned Stark killed the girl’s direwolf.

“Is that all?” Jaime asked, annoyed. “Any other news for us?”

“Well, the traitor wolf king is dead, along with all of his men.”

Brienne gripped the table. “What?”

“You didn’t know?” the man eyed them speculatively, taking in their dirty clothes and muddy hair. They looked worse than any urchins roaming King’s Landing, Jaime thought. Brienne’s eyes flashed and she shook her head.

Jaime knew she’d reveal something if she spoke next. “The war is over then?”

“It is. Has been for weeks since the traitor died by Frey hands. Only Stannis and the reaver live but not for long, King Tommen will fix that.”

Jaime thought of Tommen with his fat cheeks and tendency to adopt roaming kittens. “I am sure our King will be fierce in battle.”

Brienne stayed silent the rest of the evening, unwilling to lock eyes with Jaime even as the men around them spoke of the inglorious Red Wedding. They shared a room and she allowed him the bed, a luxury he would not deny himself. They had been sleeping on the ground too much for him to think of chivalry or honor.

And she was still his captor, although she neglected placing the shackles on him now, too distracted to think of him. Too busy with tears for Catelyn Stark.

“I am sorry,” he said, as he lay in the darkness. Whether he was apologizing for taking the bed or that Catelyn Stark’s murder at a wedding, he wasn’t sure. He was sure his father had something to do with it, although no one had suggested such a thing.

“It wasn’t honorable,” he heard Brienne say from her seat on the wooden floor. He imagined that her blue eyes were filled with unshed tears for her lady. “What they did was terrible.”

Some ass had filled her head with the deplorable acts that occurred on the Red Wedding, every single terrible thing that was rumored to have happened. Jaime hoped that most of them were tales. He hated the Starks for kidnapping Tyrion and holding him as hostage and he hated Ned Stark for judging him the moment he walked in, but to murder at a wedding seemed needlessly cruel.

And so very like his Father.

“Battle would have been better,” Jaime agreed. “But not every act can be done with honor.”

“Says you,” Brienne muttered. He hoisted himself up from the bed to stare at her. She stared back, angry. “You’re the Kingslayer. You do not know honor.”

Jaime felt an unbidden rush of anger. “You don’t even know the truth of what happened,” he said. “Aerys was a madman who raped his wife. Every night I had to hear him beat and rape her. Every night I had to stand outside and wait for him to finish.”

Brienne ducked her head. “You were still his Kingsguard...”

“He was going to murder everyone,” Jaime said, not sure why the words were spilling out after so long. Not sure why he was telling the ugly wench of all the people he could have shared the truth with. “Aerys had planted wildfire underneath all of King’s Landing and was issuing order to light it up, to let us all burn instead of giving up the city to Robert.”

Brienne’s eyes shone in the darkness - she was looking at him now, aghast. _Her eyes are like sapphires_ , he thought, almost amused. “Do you understand now, Maid of Tarth?”

“Why didn’t you tell anyone?”

Jaime removed himself from the bed and began to pace. “I killed anyone else who could have known. And when Ned Stark walked into the room, saw the red smear on the floor that was once Mad King Aerys, he judged me a sinner and a man who gave up his honor. Despite the fact he was there to do the same thing that I did.”

“He was not under the oath of the Kings-,” Brienne started to say but Jaime hated that excuse.

“He was under oath to obey his King. But he couldn’t well do that when the King was screaming for his and Robert’s head, could he? Just as I could not obey mine when the King screamed to burn it all.” Jaime flinched as the wench got up. The little light from the candle illuminated her figure. She wasn’t wearing armor now, which is what he was used to, and he could see the slight swell of her breast under her shirt. “My only regret was that I did not protect Princess Elia and her children from my father’s men,” he confessed to her as she moved closer.

“I did not know,” was all Brienne said, her eyes blue and bright in the darkness. He watched as she bit her lips and wondered idly what it would be like to kiss them.

“No one does.”

**Author's Note:**

> sorry it kind of ends on a cliffhanger I promise at some point this week I'll make them kiss (not in this universe sorry!). (just uh, not tomorrow either, I'm the worstttttttttttt.) Still hope you enjoyed!


End file.
